Tag Archives: poetry


“How Long Is Forever?”

I know of such an awful thing
That makes me want to cry.
And once again I’m asking
Oh God, in Heaven, why?

Some lives are changed forever-
They’ll never be the same.
They’ll carry grief forever
And always feel to blame.

Today at early evening
Before the darkness fell,
I went to look beyond my porch
To see if all was well.

The autumn leaves have fallen,
The woods are deep but clear.
I can see our mountain town
And its lights from over here.

It’s very calm and peaceful
‘Cept some rustling in the leaves-
I pierce the darkening stillness
And see the deer beneath the trees.

They’re beautiful and agile,
I watch for quite a while.
They make the scene so simple
And tempt me so to smile.

I felt content and happy
But then remembered grief.
The deer knew nothing of it
So journeyed on among the leaves.

In standing here, I’m guilty
Of wanting to forget
Someone else’s sorrow-
And sure I’ll pay a debt
For wanting to be happy
And grateful mine are well-
But how can that be so,
When they are still in hell.

How long is long enough
To mourn the loss of those
Who can’t be called my ‘very own’-
But yet I surely know.

What would Heaven want of me?
What would be correct?
I will mourn their loss forever
And my heart will not forget.


International Book Fairs….Notes from Lynda

LANTERNS OF THE SOUL has successfully attended the 2013 Book Expo America Digital Listing in New York; the 2013 London Book Fair Digital Listing; and the 2013 Beijing Book Fair Digital Listing. It will attend the 2013 Frankfurt, Germany Book Fair Digital Listing this fall.

“And From This Web, The Dew”…….Lyrics by Lynda

“And From This Web, The Dew”

This woeful web of dailiness
That comes to plague us all
Must exist to catch the dew
That sometimes sweetly falls.

There’s never any way to know
If, amid our grueling day,
There’ll come a moment so exquisite,
We pause to see it pass our way.

And should we be unwilling
Each day to persevere,
Our blinded eyes would fail to see
The dew that may have settled near.

So often, it is silent,
Unnoticed by the rest;
Below an office window,
A robin builds her nest.
How great the chance to be above-
Where oft’ we are below-
To view the birth of baby birds
And then to watch them grow.

Or maybe on a wintry day,
A cold and snowy morn,
You marvel how the world is dressed
In virgin white throughout the storm.

And just as gently as the dew
Drifts in to settle round,
Perhaps a friend should chance to say
A word to turn your frown.

Or maybe on a busy day
Amid a set routine-
There, suddenly, the hand of God
You know you felt, unseen.
And with great appreciation
You marvel how He cared.
The warmth you felt in knowing that
In all the world, He saw “you” there.

And so come hence, you woeful web;
Do spin yourself anew.
Come hither unto me each day
And I will catch your dew!

“Hills of Healing”……Lyrics by Lynda

“Hills of Healing”

Stretching out before her
The quiet mountains stood.
Strong, yet never moving
As only mountains could.
She parked her car and locked the doors
And settled down to watch
The dusk that soon would settle
Upon this silent, hilly notch.

Troubled when she first arrived
They’ve calmed and soothed her soul-
These old and rugged mountains
Can make a spirit whole.
Their message never changes,
They always seem to say
Come hither unto us and pause
We’ll ease your cares away.

As if patiently awaiting
And knowing she would come
They quickly work their magic
And in little time, they’re done.
She breathes a sigh and whispers thanks
And starts her car to leave-
The mountains know she’ll come again
To seek their strength and peace.

“The Rose and the Weed”….Lyrics by Lynda

“The Rose and the Weed”

Fidelity, a rose or weed
Nursed, neglected, like flower seeds,
Each is planted. Somone’s toil-
One seeks the soul, the other soil.

For some, a solemn pledge pursued,
A promise made to not abuse
A holy vow. And like the rose,
With nurturing, it blooms and grows.

But what of dreams so slyly stilled,
A promise made but not fulfilled?
Neglected like forgotten weeds-
Uncaring of another’s needs.

And thus, we choose which road to walk-
Both ways of life await our knock.
But lo, beside the blooming rose
There thrives the weed. So close, it grows.